


Lost [by Amanda Palmer and the Grand Theft Orchestra]

by frenitick



Category: Creepypasta - Fandom
Genre: Drugs, F/M, Sex, Slow Burn, Smut, will be continued but not as a song fic
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-07-21
Updated: 2016-07-21
Packaged: 2018-07-25 20:43:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 454
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7546817
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/frenitick/pseuds/frenitick
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The first chapter is a song doc, but the rest will not be. You, aka the reader, are a junkie. You do heroin, but you mostly pop pills. Your friends and family have recently and briefly given up hope for you, leaving you alone. Surprisingly, the only person that can stop you from hitting rock bottom is an alcoholic serial killer, who you're not even sure is alive.<br/>(There will be smut. There will be a slow burn. )</p>
            </blockquote>





	Lost [by Amanda Palmer and the Grand Theft Orchestra]

[I lost my wallet  
I lost my wallet and I'm lost dear]

You pace in your bed room , raking your shaking fingers through your tangled hair, wincing as they caught snags. Your eyes searched the cluttered floor.  
Where did you put it?  
Your needle? You just had it. You filled it, and placed it down somewhere.

[I swear I had it  
I had on me when we got here]

Upon spotting it on the edge of your bed, you nearly plunged for it, scanning it with greedy eyes.  
Sitting hastley on the unmade disaster, you let out a small sigh of relief. You were so close to just prepping another one and worrying about finding this one later. You don't have much time to get high; you have work in an hour. You checked your alarm clock. Make that a half an hour until work. Sighing, you lean your head back, settling on getting high faster, injecting the dope into your neck.

[Nothing's ever lost forever,  
It's just hiding in the cushions of your couch  
And when you find it you'll have such a nice surprise]

You sigh again, feeling your head rush as you slowly pull the needle out, tossing it unceremoniously to the side. Your body grows heavy as you lean back into the crumpled up blanket and pillow. You barely perk up as you hear heavy footsteps, like boots clomping on the dirty hardwood floor.

[I miss the yellow  
I miss the yelling and the shakedown  
I'm not complaining  
I have a better set of knives now]

You struggle to keep your eyes open, despite the alarm that is piercing through your mind.  
Your vision is dark, and oh, did you close your eyes? Open them.  
You open your eyes briefly, catching the image of a man with bleach white, leathery skin. His eyes seemed to bulge out of their darkened sockets. There is a scabby, torn up smile carved out of his mouth, and you can not tell where his lips end and the artificial smile started. Or, was that an artificial smile? He seemed so deformed that it's possible he wasn't human.  
Was he even really there? Was this something that was really happening? You can't tell, and your eyes are closed again.

 

[No one's ever lost forever  
When they die, they go away  
But the will visit you occasionally  
Do not be afraid[/i]

You drift off slowly, and then quickly, it only taking 30 seconds. Your heartbeat slows down drastically.  
"Falling asleep junkie?" His deep voice rasped, pulling one of your blood shot eyelids up, seeing your almost yellow, glossy bloodshot eyes.  
Your heart beat slows more and he lets your eyelid go.  
You heart slowly stills.


End file.
